Bullies Choke New Girl — Unaware She's A Deadly MMA Fighter
Chapter 18
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Silas watched the sedan pull away down the gravel road, dust rising behind it in the afternoon light. He stood there a long moment after it disappeared, turning the conversation over the way he'd turn a part he didn't trust—looking for the crack that would tell him where it was going to fail. A man doesn't warn you off a subject unless the subject can hurt him. Silas intended to find out exactly how.That evening he called Duke. "Voss came to my house today," Silas said—no greeting, straight to it."What'd he want?""Told me not to go digging into old history. Old programs. The county gym."Duke was quiet a second. "So he knows you know.""Somebody told him. Question is who, and why it scared him enough to drive out personally instead of just calling.""You want me to ask around? See if anybody remembers more about that gym program—who ran the books, who signed kids up, anything from back then?""Yeah," Silas said. "Quietly, though. I don't want this getting back to Voss faster than we can use it.""You think there's something bigger under this?"Silas looked out the kitchen window at the dark shape of his garage, where the old memorial motorcycle sat under its canvas cover, untouched for two years except to be cleaned. "I think a man doesn't get that nervous over a summer program from 13 years ago," Silas said, "unless something happened in it he spent 13 years trying to bury."Duke was quiet a moment on the other end. "I'll make some calls. See what Ellen Marsh remembers. She ran the sign-up desk back then—woman never throws a record away in her life.""Appreciate it.""You all right, Silas?"Silas thought about the question longer than it probably needed. "I will be," he said, "once I understand what I'm actually standing in front of."The next afternoon, Silas drove into town and stopped by the sheriff's office—more out of habit than any real plan. Kesler was at his desk, boots up, going through paperwork he clearly didn't want to be doing."You look like a man with something on his mind," Kesler said, not looking up."Voss came by my place yesterday. Told me to stop asking questions about old history."Kesler set his pen down slow. "What kind of old history?""County gym program 13 years back. I taught self-defense there two summers.""I remember that program," Kesler said. "My cousin's kid went through it. Good thing while it lasted; budget cuts killed it eventually. You remember anything unusual from back then? Any incidents?"Kesler thought a moment, then shook his head slowly. "Not that I recall directly. Why?""Because Voss drove out to my house personally to warn me off it. A man like that doesn't waste an afternoon on nothing."Kesler leaned back in his chair, studying his old friend. "You think there's something buried in that program worth him being scared of?""I think I'm about to find out," Silas said. "And when I do, I may need you to make it official—not just something I know, something the county has to answer for."